Souls
by IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: The first time Hawkeye and the Black Widow meet, they are in Paris and he is send to kill her. They are supposed to be enemies, to kill each other or die trying. But they don't, because it may be the first time Hawkeye and the Black Widow meet, but it's not the first time Clint and Natasha met. This is the story of two broken souls that keep meeting each other.
1. Bulgaria

**This is an AU-story of how Clint and Natasha could have met. I have never read the comics, so don't expect it to be similar to that. English is not my first language, so don't hate me for mistakes. Also, I sadly own nothing.**

* * *

The first time Hawkeye and the Black Widow meet, they are in Paris and he is send to kill her. They are supposed to be enemies, to kill each other or die trying. But they don't, because it may be the first time Hawkeye and the Black Widow meet, but it's not the first time Clint and Natasha met.

The first time they meet is in a little town in Bulgaria. She is 15, the youngest and most promising Black Widow the Red Room has to offer. He is 17 and not Hawkeye yet. He is just a betrayed ex-carnie and contract killer. A pissed mob boss send him to kill her. She is good, but he is good too.

* * *

Clint spends two month tracking her down. She is his first bigger assignment, the one that will make him a legend if he succeed. He knows that. He has heard of the Black Widow, knows the rumors that are whispered in dark alleys. He's not afraid. Cautious, but not afraid. If he was, he wouldn't have taken the job.

* * *

Natalia knows she's being followed. She isn't sure what to think about it. She knows she is good, knows that she is better than most assassins, even though she is still young. On the other hand, whoever manages to find her has to be good, too. In the moments she allows herself to think openly, she admits to herself that she is a bit afraid. But even when she's just thinking it, she can hear Uncle Ivan shouting in her head: _You're a Black Widow! You aren't afraid. You are the best. You are a killer. You will do what we tell you._ It's comforting, but only a bit.

* * *

Clint waits for her. He sits in an empty house, gun drawn (He isn't Hawkeye yet. He doesn't use bow and arrows.), waiting for her to walk down the street.

* * *

She is there to kill a mobster. She doesn't succeed, he is warned. It happens so fast she has nearly no time to react. In one moment, she has him under control, in the next moment about a dozen bodyguards have weapons trained on her. She does the only thing that makes sense: she runs. Down the street, were Clint is waiting for her.

* * *

It wasn't him who warned the mobster. He knows she's here to kill him, but he has done some research on him and found that the world really wouldn't miss him. The problem is that his hide-out isn't as good as he thought. One of the guards saw him and suddenly they are in the house, trying to kill him, too. They think he belongs to _her_. He sees no way but to jump out of the house, right on the street, where his target runs away from a group pissed mobsters.

* * *

Natalia notices him the moment he jumps out of the window, guards behind him. She recognizes him instantly: It is the guy that's been following her. He is younger than she guessed, she realizes, but then dismisses the thought. She is still being followed by too many enemies.

They come to an empty warehouse. Natalia and the other guy run inside and take cover behind an empty container. Natalia has no illusions why he is here. He is an american, and he waited for her, which only leaves one conclusion: He is here to kill her. She just wonders why he hasn't done it yet.

* * *

Clint sits next to his target. It's quite ironic, he thinks, that instead of killing her he is helping her. Not that it could really be counted as helping. More as 'we need each other to survive this'. But still, as the gunfire starts, they share a short look before shooting back.

* * *

Natalia's gun is empty. She grabs into her pocket for another clip but curses when she finds none. _We're …. I'm so screwed_, she thinks and decides to keep the question where the 'we' came from for later.

* * *

Clint hears the redhead curse in russian and looks at her. She looks back, signing at her gun and before he knows what he is doing he gives her a new clip. _Stupid! _He thinks, but she doesn't point the gun at him, but at the guards that are still firing. Suddenly, a grenade is thrown towards them. Before he can think of anything, he and his target run, hand in hand. He can't remember if he grabbed her hand or she his, he just knows he doesn't let go until they're behind another container and hear the grenade go off.

* * *

Natalia continues firing at the guards, more careful with the ammo now, because she doesn't know if the other guy, _the guy who came to kill me,_ she reminds herself, has more and if he will give her more. The guards are down to four, to two, to one. She shoots him with her last remaining bullet. The warehouse is on fire now, caused by the explosion. She sits on the floor, feels the heat of the fire and looks at the other guy. He holds a gun trained to her head, obviously planning to finish what he came for.

* * *

Clint holds the gun to her head. He should do it now. Pull the trigger. But he can't. He looks into her green eyes. The fire is reflecting in them and he sees something he didn't expect to see: Fear. She doesn't want to die. He has expected the Black Widow, a feared assasin, but now, when he looks at her, taking in her red hair, her young face, all he can think is _Shit she's just a kid._ After a long moment, he lowers the gun and holds out his hand instead. She looks at him warily, then takes his hand and stands up.

„I'm Clint." He says because he knows nothing else to say.

„Natasha." She decides. Natalia lives in the Red Room. It's not that she doesn't trust the Red Room, they took her when nobody else was there, when nobody else wanted her, but she wants at least a bit freedom. A little decision she can make on her own.

„Well then, Natasha, let's get out of here before somebody alerts the police." He is grinning, a sympatetic grin that makes her want to trust him. She smiles warily, not sure what to think about him and not entirely convinced that he isn't going to stab her in the back as soon as she lets him out of sight.

He doesn't.

* * *

**AN: So, first chapter. I thought at 15/17 they wouldn't be that guarded yet, but I know it's a bit OOC. I hope you like it, and when there are people who want to read it, I might turn it into a story. Tell me what you think.**


	2. Rome

Natalia comes home to an angry Uncle Ivan. This is the first assignment she ever screwed up, and she can see Yelena Belova smirking in the background. She blushes with shame and keeps her head down. She doesn't tell Uncle Ivan about Clint. There is no need to do that. He would just scold her for not killing the american, and Yelena would have even more reasons to dance in joy over her failure.

But that doesn't mean she's not thinking about him. Clint has saved her, even though he came to kill her. It's paradox and she can't understand it. It's against the rules. The rules make it easy. If you follow the rules, everything is alright. According to the rules, you don't spare the life of your target. You just don't. But he did. And Natalia doesn't know why. She just knows that now, she owes him a debt.

* * *

Clint thinks about Natasha, too. When he gets back to America, he is greeted by the hitmen of the pissed mob boss. Now the guy is even more pissed. Clint waits till he is alone with him, then knocks him out and flees. One more name on his growing list of enemies. Clint doesn't care.

What he does care about is what happens to Natasha. He had half expected her to attack him when he walked away, but she didn't. She disappeared. Here and there he hears rumors of her, but it's nothing specific. He smirks when he thinks that probably he is the only guy who survived an encounter with her.

He doesn't regret his decision to let her live. She is not the cold assassin he heard about. He knows she's not innocent, knows she's an assassin even though she is young, he is not that naive. But he has seen that there is more than that. He has seen the scared girl she somewhere deep down still is. And it intrigues him.

* * *

He sees her again 3 month later. He is in Rome, sent to kill an arms dealer. He doesn't plan a distance shot this time. This time, he buys a suit and goes to the party the guy throws, because the guy who hired him wants not only a kill but also an information only the target himself possesses. He just thinks of an excuse to get the target out of the room when he catches a flash of red and turns his head. She is just as beautiful as he remembers, in a stunning white dress and with make-up that makes her look at least five years older. She's chatting with a guy and Clint can see from afar that she totally has him wrapped around her finger. He makes a quick decision and moves forward.

* * *

It is an easy job, Natalia thinks. She sees her target, an arms dealer, talk with some of his business associates while she chats with his secretary. Really, this is going to be easy. She feels the looks of most of the men in the room resting on her, nothing new. She allows herself to drift of a little. She had proven herself again. It had been hard, but she had used the last three month to convince Uncle Ivan that she was the best, that she was his favourite for a good reason. She smiles contentedly, when suddenly a hand lays itself on her shoulder. She turns around and looks in a familiar pair of grey blue eyes.

„May I have a dance?" He asks, a charming smile on his face.

In the first second, Natalia is just shocked. Shocked that he is here, shocked that she didn't notice him before. Than she catches herself, smiles back just as charmingly and replies:

„Of course."

Clint takes her hand, and Natalia flashes back to the last time he did that. Now they are not in a burning warehouse but at a party, dressed in a suit and a dress, and she kind of enjoys it.

* * *

Clint leads her to the dance floor, then places his hand at her waist when they begin to dance. A waltz.

„Now, Natasha, how have you been." He asks.

„Good. Really, I had a good time. What about you?" She smiles. He can't say if it's a fake or not.

„Oh, just like the life of a contract killer is, I think. Had a few good days, had a few bad days. Nothing unusual." It's not a lie from his side. This day definitifly counts as a good day.

„Are you here for me?" She asks. He hears a little wavering in her voice, the slightest bit uncertainty.

„Nope. The arms dealer over there. You?" He says.

„Same here. What do we do?"

„Well, I also need an answer from him. I planned on somehow bringing him out of here and then questioning him. What about you?"

* * *

„Same plan. I need the code to his safe."

Clint thinks for a moment, then says something that suprises Natalia.

„Let's do it together. I'm your idiotic boyfriend, you run to him for comfort, take him outside and we question him together."

Natalia thinks for a moment, than nods. There is really no need to fight each other.

„About 50 metres left from here is an empty house. I'll wait there." Clint says, and she nods again.

The music ends and they part. They make a scene, put in a bit screaming for good measure and then she sees the target approaching her. He offers her a drink and a shoulder to cry on while Clint is brought out by the security. It's so easy she is nearly ashamed and when she suggest to leave together he follows her like a dog. She brings him to the house Clint told her about. It's a risk, it could be trap, but she decides to take the risk. She can deal with traps.

* * *

Clint waits for her, and together they tie the target to the chair. It takes the guy solid 2 minutes to get what's going on, and then he starts spilling it all. Clint and Natasha share an annoyed look, and after 5 minutes they get the answers they came for. Clint takes the shot, thinking of all those people in civil war countries that die everyday because the target gives the bad guys weapons.

They say their goodbyes and leave Rome, without looking back, but thinking that this certainly wasn't the last time they crossed paths.


	3. Serbia

The third time they meet is in Serbia. Clint has had some shitty months, still running from the guy that employed him to kill the Black Widow and then there were a few assignments that were just bad, a few employes that betrayed him and/or tried to kill him. It's only been two month, but somehow this two month made him harder, less naïve. At least he hopes that. But he proves himself wrong every time a certain girl crosses his mind. He sometimes thinks of her, the redheaded beauty named Natasha. Scratch that, he often thinks of her, too often. How could he not? She is the only person out there who he would consider, maybe, as an associate. He hasn't seen her in the last two month, not that he expected it. He knows he's gonna see her again eventually, knows this world is just too small for two assassins with their skills to not meet again. The problem is that he wants to see her again. He wants to believe he isn't that naïve anymore, wants to believe that this totally fucked up job in Croatia (his last assignment) made him cleverer, but deep down he knows it's not really true.

* * *

Natalia on the other hand had a good time, at least after her standards. She is still Uncle Ivan's favourite, she hasn't failed one assignment in this two month, she kills the bad guys, she is perfect. Just the fact that she can't stop thinking about Clint, this stupid american, bothers her. But it's not important, because nobody knows about him. Nobody knows he exists. Everyday she tells herself that he is nobody, means nothing, should be forgotten. She doesn't stop looking out for him, though.

* * *

Clint is on a roof waiting. A corrupt politician, really dirty guy, involved in human trafficking and all that shit, is his target. He has only a gun, again. His employer, who looked suspiciously like a governmental guy with no other choices but hiring an assassin, wants the job to be done quickly. Usually he would run whenever he saw somebody that looked even remotely like government, but after his two month he would take every job.

He sees the target now. He is wearing a grey suit that looks like it cost more than Clint will earn for killing him and walks away from the empty warehouse in the outskirts of the city. Clint sees a few thugs still in the warehouse and when they don't follow his target, he decides to wait till the guy is out of their sight. No need to alarm them of his existence. But then, when he looks over to the thugs again, he sees a familiar shade of red. He immediately tries to get a better look on it and yes, it is her. She's tied to a chair, and when what he sees from here is anything to go by, she is beaten up pretty badly. In his outer focus he realizes that his target is about to get away, but then one of this thugs suddenly has a knife and starts moving towards Natasha and Clint changes his plans. He fires and hits knifeguy. The other guys look up shocked and Clint smirks. They never suspect a sniper.

He shoots them one by one, while they are still trying to figure out where he is (he silently congratulates himself for standing on the roof of another house, firing through a window instead of being inside the warehouse), careful not to hit Natasha. After the last one hits the ground, he gets down from the roof and runs into the warehouse.

* * *

This mission is shit. Natalia had been blown the moment she got into the room, she thinks. There is no other way they could have slipped something in her drink and brought her here for interrogation. When she wakes up to see her mark hovering over her, a few thugs next to him and finds herself chained to a chair she curses herself for not tasting the drug.

They question her for what she estimates must be about two hours. She tells them nothing, not when they beat her, not when one of them gets a knife and cuts her skin, not when they threat to kill her. She is a Black Widow. She doesn't tell. If she is killed, it's for Russia. For Uncle Ivan. She won't tell.

Finally, her mark leaves and tells his thugs to kill her. To say she's not afraid would be a lie, but she won't show them her fear. The guy with the knife starts moving towards her, and then he suddenly drops to the floor. Dead. Natalia knows it has to be a sniper immediately, and she even has a pretty good guess where he is. She smirks while she watches her enemies searching their attacker and secretly, silently hopes she is right with her assumption who it is. It can't be anybody else, it has to be him, but she still can't hide the relief in her eyes when she sees Clint running towards her.

* * *

She looks even worse from close than from afar. There are deep cuts on her arms, a darkening bruise in her face and this is only what he sees from the first look. What shocks him maybe even more is the utter relief in her eyes when she sees him. Like she doesn't believe she would have made it out without him.

He talks to her quietly while he cuts her restraints.

„Really, Natasha, do you always get yourself in trouble like this?"

She smirks a bit and answers:

„Only when you are in the city."

„So it's my fault? Well, I always knew I'm bad luck." He tries to make her smile while helping her up. She looks really bad and if he hadn't already killed those thugs he'd do it again for beating her up like this.

„No. You are good luck." She says, and he smiles.

* * *

She means it when she says he is good luck. He is the only one in this world that would come to her rescue, she knows that. The Red Room wouldn't send anybody. No, Clint, the stupid american is the only one who would come for her.

He drags her to a hotel and ushers her into his room. Natalia should go, she knows it. She should leave or kill her mark. But Natalia also should kill Clint, because he's an assassin and he's american and she's russian. But she doesn't. Maybe, she thinks, it is because in this moment, she isn't Natalia. Clint calls her Natasha, and somehow she is Natasha. She feels different when he is with her.

He patches her up and makes horrible jokes, but she laughs anyway. Coming from him, this jokes are funny. He is right next to her when she lies down on his bed, and somehow they start talking, moving away from jokes to a real conversation. They talk about what it feels like to kill, what they think when they do it. She finds they are rather similar, both alone in this dangerous world and both with morals, deep down. She thinks there is nothing she wouldn't do for the Red Room, but then again there are some things the Red Room simply wouldn't order her to do. The Red Room are the good guys. At least she tells herself that. Clint makes it very clear that he only takes assignments to kill the bad guys. He can choose his targets.

Her mind tells her things she doesn't want to know. Her mind treats Clint like a mark, and it gives her information she doesn't want. She senses that he is naive, deep down, that he wants to trust her. Natalia should use that against him, but Natasha wants to trust too. And so she does, at least a bit.

* * *

**AN: I am a bit in stress because of school and I won't update so much. I'm sorry for that. But it would be very nice to get a feedback for this story. I thank everybody who followes and/or favourited, but a review would be nice, too. =)**


	4. Somewhere in Africa

After Serbia, things are not quite the same anymore. Natalia finds herself thinking of him more often, thinking of that american who saved her life twice now. It's distracting and she should really stop doing it, but she can't help herself. She knows he let his target get away to save her. That is breaking the rules. Again. He didn't seem to care though, he even took her to his hotel and patched her up. His hands had been gentle, way softer than she thought and careful not to hurt her any further. Not like the medics she knows at all. His jokes had been really crappy, but she hadn't minded. It confused the hell out of her, but instead of terminating the distraction she finds herself wanting to meet him again. This confuses her even more.

* * *

Clint's life is really crappy right now. After he messed up in Serbia he knows for sure the US cover intelligence wants him, and that he managed to piss of some warlord in Africa doesn't help at all. The guy told him to either take the hit on a rival or die instantly. Choice had been easy.

So now, after only about half a day planning, he is on a party his target gives. Why do the bad guys always host parties? And really, a warlord in a suit? But Clint doesn't really care. All he knows is that the warlord is clever enough to always be inside and out of reach of every sniper riffle, what means Clint has to get close. And the party is perfect for that. He just tries to figure out how he could get past the three bodyguards that are always with the target, two openly standing behind him while the third one tries to look like a party guest (he fails miserably), when Clint suddenly feels somebody behind him. He turns around and looks at two security guys who look like bodybuilders. Clint knows he is fast, and he knows that he could probably knock them out, but not without alarming the other thirty security guards in the room. The poison he got for his target (it worked after about 30 minutes, enough time to get away) won't help him here. He is beat and he knows it. Guard one (the left one) says:

„Would you please come with us?"

It's not really a question and Clint knows better than to treat it as one. He follows them into a little room, desperately trying to find a way out. The two thugs calmly inform him that his cover name, Craig Bennet, is not one the guest list and that nobody in there knows him. Then they ask him what he has to say to that. Well, he of course doesn't have anything to say, so they ask him who ordered the hit. He tells them, because really, he doesn't care or the guy who hired him.

The guys don't seem to believe him and chain him to the wall. He fights them, but they call in three other guys and he soon hangs from the wall. Then they start to torture him. He stays with his story, because well, it's the truth and he really doesn't know what they want to hear. Also he has the sneaking suspicion that those guys don't care. They are going to kill him anyway, this here is just to prove a point. He loses the sense of time. From time to time new guys come in. Once, after what feels like about six hours but also could be days or only a an hour he thinks he sees a familiar flash of red in the door, but that's probably just imagination. It doesn't matter, but it brings his thoughts to her. It's nice to think of her just before he blacks out.

* * *

Natalia has been sent to Africa for a while. The warlord here is a friend of Uncle Ivan and Uncle Ivan told her to do anything the warlord asks her to do. So she does. She mostly stays in the background, the guys here don't really respect her, but that's okay because she has time for herself this way. It's a completely new concept for her, spending hours without being told what to do, just she herself. She sets up a safe house a few miles away from the warlords headquarter, more a habit than anything else. She doesn't think she'll use it.

Then she hears that somebody send an assassin after her momentarily boss. She shakes her head. Who is stupid enough to agree to take such a target? Really, everybody knows the warlord is protected by the Red Room. She gets curious about this guy and sneaks down in the room where they have him. When she sees him her heart nearly stops. Even beaten up and in the crappy light of the room it's unmistakable him. Clint.

She doesn't know what's happening, but somehow she is running, away from this, away from the place where the only guy who ever really cared for her gets beaten up and tortured. Somehow, she ends up on the roof. She tries to get her head clear. Natalia really shouldn't care, she knows that. The problem is she does. She feels … connected to Clint, and also she owes him a debt. But Uncle Ivan told her to do anything the warlord orders her... and feelings and friendship and everything is for children. She is no child. But that doesn't change the fact that Natasha thinks of Clint as a friend, it doesn't change the fact that she wants to grab a few guns and kill those thugs for hurting Clint.

This sudden wave of emotion confuses the hell out of her. She is the Black Widow, she shouldn't feel. She wants to punch something because she doesn't know what to do. She is loyal to the Red Room, but Clint is a friend. Her only friend.

There is no way to get out of this situation without betraying either Clint or Uncle Ivan.

* * *

When Clint wakes up, he doesn't feel any more punches. He keeps his eyes closed, just in case, but the only thing he feels are careful hands that unchain him. Are they going to execute him now? No, … he smells something familiar. Natasha. His eyes fly open. Green eyes stare worried into his blue grey ones. Red hair brushes lightly over his shoulder. She is here. Natasha.

„Nat?" He croaked out.

„Psst!" She makes, putting a finger to her lips and obviously scanning him for injuries. Well, he has a few. Then she hands him a gun and motions him to follow her. She leads him through a labyrinth of corridors, always making sure nobody sees them. Clint's feet get heavier by the minute. He is sure he cracked at least two ribs and his left ankle is badly sprained, not to think of the long, bleeding gash on his torso, but now is not the moment to take a break. He knows it's only a matter of time till they find out he escaped, so he hurries up. Natasha, who still hasn't spoken a word, suddenly opens a door and steps out into the sunlight. It burns in Clint's eyes, but only for a moment, then he gets used to it. She leads him through empty streets now, and he realizes how tired he is. Then, somehow, they are in a little house. He doesn't remember how they got here. Natasha says something, but Clint doesn't hear it and blacks out again.

The next time he wakes up, he lies in a small, yet somehow comfortable bed. It's warm, but not too warm and he seems to be alone. When he opens his eyes, he realizes he is in the little house Natasha brought him into. Natasha. He looks around, but she's not there. He tries to sit up and realizes his torso and his ankle are bandaged along with most of his other injuries.. She must have done it while he was out. On the table in the middle of the room lies a small note.

Dear Clint

I hope you feel better when you read this. I had to go back before somebody misses me. This house is safe, you can stay as long as you want. Medical supplies are under the bed. You should research your targets better =)

Till next time,

Natasha

* * *

She goes back as if nothing happened. They keep her busy, now they know he go away, but after two days it's back to normal and she has the time to think. She owed him a debt, she reasons to herself. Also, Uncle Ivan only told her to do what the warlord orders her to do. He never said she shouldn't free Clint.

* * *

**AN: I hope you liked it. I wanted to show the loyalty conflict Natasha gets into. Please tell me what you think, really, I need reviews!  
**


	5. Austria

Clint stays in her safe house for a week until he feels healthy enough to face the world (him staying so long has absolutely nothing to do with the hope she'll maybe come to check on him)(except it totally does). She doesn't come, though, and after a week he thinks it's time to go. He takes her note with him. It's a sentimentality, but he kind of sort of wants to have something of her he can touch, something he can take with him. He knows her enough to know she would laugh at him for it, but he can't help himself. He is back in business soon, always looking out for her secretly. After all, she wrote 'Till next time'.

* * *

She thought of going to the house often. Just to check up on him. Just to know if he is still there. But she fights the urge. She already crossed a line by saving him. She won't break any other rules. That's his speciality.

A few weeks later she is in Austria. She is on a kill mission again, and her target loves to ski. So she climbs up the alps, freezing and cursing the target for going to such a cold area.

* * *

Clint sits in a tree and waits for his target. A mafia guy, involved in all the dirty businesses, human trafficking, drugs, weapons... the list is endless. And to make it even worse, he is a clever criminal. He has no weaknesses, always has at least five bodyguards with him, stays in closed areas... a nightmare for a guy like Clint. Only through a coincidence he found out his target likes to ski, and well, that is the best invitation he will get. Skiing, at least skiing at the level of skill the target obviously is at, means mountains, loneliness, probably not even bodyguards. And: A free line of shot. So he sits in the tree, waiting for his target and freezing off his ass. He looks longingly at the small house behind him, more a hut than anything else, but it's warm in there and he has a bit food in there. Right after he took the shot he will go in there, warm up and then get the hell out of here.

* * *

Natalia finds out she likes skiing. Yes, it's still way to cold, but she kind of likes the speed and the white snow. It's a bit like falling. Which is strange, because Natasha hates nothing more than falling. She decides not to think of it and just enjoy the moment.

She sees her target now, he takes a break from driving, obviously admiring the view. The view is spectacular, but what is even better is the fact that he is alone. _No bodyguards! Not a single one!_ Natalia smirks. Not so careful after all.

She comes closer, always keeping an eye on her surroundings. Nothing seems suspicious, and then he turns around.

„Perfect weather for this, isn't it?" He asks, and she smiles. She's a known seductress after all.

„Absoulutely. It is amazing." She says before shooting him in the chest three times. The shots are loud in the quiet landscape, but that's not what shocks her. What shocks her is the _fourth _shot, right into her targets head. She turns to were the shot came from, gun still raised, waiting for the attacker to show himself. There is nothing... but then a tree a few hundred metres east from her position begins to move. A figure drops out of it and she wonders who would be stupid enough to show himself... till she recognizes him. He winks and motions her to come to him. She wonders what Clint wants from her, but follows anyway. He is always fun.

She doesn't notice that she's smiling.

* * *

When Clint sees another guy on skis coming towards his target, he at first thinks it's a bodyguard. But then he sees red... a very familiar shade of red and knows exactly who it is. He knows the job is as good as done, but can't resist shooting the guy in the head just to piss her off. Clint then decides to invite her over into the small house, just to talk a bit. After all, she the only human out there he trusts. Which is scary and kind of weird, but Clint pushes the thought away. She walks towards him, carrying her skis on her shoulder. It's not really a long way, but he is higher than she is so it's probably exhausting.

When she arrives, he greets her with a short hug. Natasha stiffens slightly, but doesn't push him away. Then he ushers her inside, making fire to warm them up. They don't talk, and the whole situation seems a bit unreal, but Clint takes what he can get, especially today. When the fire finally starts to heat them up she finally speaks.

„Fancy meeting you here."

„I could say the same about you." He smiles.

„What is it? You smile so... different." She asks, looking genuinely confused.

„Nothing. It's just... today is my birthday and it's been years since I've spent it with somebody I actually like." He is not sure how she will react, after all, he's only met her five times and they never talked about the … friendship they share. Could it be called a friendship? Clint likes to think so.

* * *

Natasha isn't sure what to say to that. She knows the concept of a birthday, but she never celebrated it. In the Red Room, birthdays aren't important. On New Year, everybody is a year older. Simply like that. The idea of having an individual birthday to remember and to celebrate is nice. (She shoves away the fact that he said, actually said that he liked her for later. She needs time to think about it, even though she knew before. His actions (like that hug (it caught her completely of guard) (she liked it though)(not that she will ever admit that) always spoke for him. Still... him saying it... later).

„Congratulations then." She says smiling „I don't exactly know what you say or do on birthdays, I never had one."

„You never had a birthday? Come on, Nat, tell me that's a joke!" He says, completely shocked.

She has to laugh at his reaction (It doesn't slip her that he called her 'Nat'. He already did that back in Africa, but she thought it had been the exhaustion. Now... she will think about it later.)

„No, I don't even know it." She says, still smiling.

„Really? You can't go through life without a birthday. No way. I forbid it." He says, sounding completely serious, but she sees that humorous spark in his eyes and smiles even more.

„I did well till now." She challenges.

„Nope. If you don't know your birthday, we'll make one up. No way you don't have a birthday."

She thinks for a moment, and then says:

„What about the 7th of July?" The day they met. They day she decides to tell him her name is Natasha. The day Natasha gained a friend. It's sentimental and unprofessional and Uncle Ivan probably would punish her for it but she doesn't care. She is Natasha and Natasha doesn't care what Uncle Ivan wants,

Clint recognizes the date, too. He looks at her strangely, and then takes her hand.

„So it's set. Your birthday is 7th July. Expect a party next year!" She smiles again. God, in the twenty minutes she is with him she has smiled more than in the two months before. It's a good feeling.

They stay in the hut for a few hours, talking and laughing and forgetting the world outside. As if they were just some teenagers (which they technically totally are) with no worries.

* * *

**AN: So, chapter 5. I'm not sure if I bring them into a friendship to fast here. I hope you liked it, though.**

**PS: Guys, please, I need reviews. I have no idea what you think and it really sucks writing and posting and not getting any feedback for it.**


	6. Bratislava

**AN: First of, big thank you too Black Betty and Rogue Reaper for reviewing! You really helped me!**

**Second, I'm really sorry this took so long. I'm really busy because of school right now and this is also the reason the next update could take longer. I'm not abandoning any of my stories though.**

* * *

Clint never liked Bratislava, really. And this visit right now doesn't help at all. He sits in an empty building that has definitively seen better times and tries not to get shot by this army of thugs he somehow managed to piss of (He tried to kill their boss. He didn't succeed) and is dangerously low on ammo.

While trying to find a way out, Clint's eyes find a calendar. He smirks. Tomorrow is the day she chose as her birthday. Even though he promised Natasha a party, he knows this would get difficult. He has not seen her in the two month since their last meeting in Austria and even though he's been looking, he hasn't actively searched her. This is just not how they work. They don't search. They find each other.

But right now, it doesn't help a bit. He is alone against an army of thugs and _fuck _they have snipers. Talented snipers. Not the usual idiots. When a bullet hits the wall right next to his head he knows he needs to move. Fast. He grabs his gun and the last magazine and runs to the next door.

The door leads to another room. It's dark in here and there are a few desks and chairs in his way out. He doesn't care what this room was used for at all, only that he can't hide here, so he makes an improvised barrier out of the desks and hopes it'll hold them up at least as long as it takes him to build it. Then, just when he hears them at the door, he runs for the next room.

Suddenly, there is a hard something in front of him. He could swear it wasn't there a second ago. Then the thing makes a small sound and...

"Natasha?!"

"Clint?!"

* * *

Natalia has no idea how she ended up here. This was supposed to be so easy. Just charm him into her car and then kill him. No big deal. But his body guards were already on alert when she arrived and as if that wasn't bad enough one of them recognized her. _Whoever said it's a good thing to be recognized is a god damn liar_, she thinks while running for her life.

She reaches one of the many empty buildings in this district and decides to go for it. It could be a trap, but on the other hand she's like a sitting duck on this open street. She kicks in the door and dives for cover just in time to avoid the round of bullets that hit the wall just over her head. _Well, I'd really love to live until my 16__th__ birthday, _she thinks and wonders immediately where this came from. Of course tomorrow is the day she picked, and she may or may not hope to meet Clint for this party he promised, but now she can't think about it, can't be Natasha. If she wants to survive this, she has to be Natalia. But that isn't as easy as it used to be. In the beginning, she could draw the lines easily. But now? Now she catches herself being Natasha in situations she really should be Natalia. Lost in thoughts she runs, until she hits something. She can't help but make a small "Ugh" and suddenly the thing starts talking.

"Natasha?!"

"Clint?!" This shouldn't be possible. How in all seven hells does she manage to run into him every time she is in trouble?

"No time. I've got about 30 on my heels. What about you?" He asks.

"30? God, Clint, how do you always do that? About ten on my side, I think. No way out there."

Clint looks up. Natasha follows his gaze to the air vent. He smiles at her and suddenly Natasha knows exactly what he thinks.

"No. No!" She exclaims, very well knowing it's the only way.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" He says with an absolutely inappropriate cheer in his voice.

"You seriously need to reconsider your definition of fun, Clint!" Natasha growls, but lets him help her up.

When they are both in the vents, Clint suddenly stops.

"Before I forget, I'm almost out of ammo. What about you?" Natasha groans at that. She should have known. Only Clint would manage to get in such a situation and not bring enough ammo.

"I've got a bit. Not enough for two."

"Better than nothing." She hears the smirk in his voice and smiles a bit.

* * *

The vent ends suddenly ends. Knowing it will be their prison if those thugs find them here, Clint and Natasha drop into the room below them. They still hear the guards shouting and searching them, so they look if they can find any hiding places or weapons.

Suddenly, Clint sees something in a corner. A bow. With a few arrows. It's been a while (it actually feels like another life) since he last used a bow and arrows, but he is quite sure he can still manage with them.

When he goes over and picks them up, Natasha looks up.

"Really?"

"Well, it's better than nothing." Clint shrugs.

"Do you know how to use them?" She asks.

"Yep. Basically grew up in a circus. That was my thing."

Natasha smiles a bit at that.

"Well, then, I can hear them coming closer. Let's show them what they are up against."

Clint isn't sure when she turned this …. adventurous. He likes it, though. It's exiting to be with her.

* * *

When the thugs find them, it is a hell of a fight. Clint and Natasha work good together, hiding behind a barrier of desks and other things they build up in a hurry, covering each other and trying not to get themselves killed. Natasha is impressed how good Clint is with the bow. He has only limited arrows, but he makes them count. Every single one hits the target, as far as she can see, and it's all kill shots.

She watches him shoot with grace, as if he'd never done anything else. To be honest, she hadn't pictured him as an ex-carnie. But now that she knows... it fits him. Suddenly, she feels a sharp pain in her side. She looks down and curses. _That's what happens when you get distracted, _she thinks and tries to figure out how bad the wound is. It's not deep, more a graze than anything else, but it bleeds like hell. Clint is next to her in an instant, covering her and looking at her worriedly. She ushers him away, she's had worse and she really doesn't need him getting shot too. After a moment, he complies and starts shooting again. She joins him a second after.

Natasha doesn't know how long they fight, but suddenly there aren't any more thugs coming in. The silence seems surreal after the loud firefight. She sees Clint standing up warily. He walks over to her and offers her a hand. Somewhere in the city, she hears a clock striking twelve. It's been a year now since they had been in exactly this situation: Him offering her a hand after a firefight. She smiles and takes it. They have come a long way since that day.

Clint hugs her and like the last time, she stiffens slightly. But only for a second, then she relaxes and starts hugging him back.

"Happy birthday, Tasha." He whispers in her ear. Tasha. Yet another nickname. But she smiles, because nobody ever wished her 'happy birthday' and because he's Clint and she really doesn't want to be with anybody else right now.

His hand accidentally brushes over her injury and she winces slightly. Clint immediately pulls away and looks at her worriedly.

"Sorry, I forgot. How bad is it?"

"It's nothing. Really." He doesn't look convinced, but she didn't expect him to be.

"Come, I'll take you to my hotel. After all, I promised you a party, didn't I?" There it is again, this smile that is almost a smirk and that is so Clint.

* * *

They go to his hotel and he patches her up. He makes her laugh and then they watch a crappy action movie together and laugh even more picking out the mistakes. During the second movie, a romance Clint wanted to watch with her, they both fall asleep, in the same bed, her head on his shoulder.

When they wake up the next day, their limbs are totally entangled, but it isn't awkward like Clint feared it would be. They just laugh and then get breakfast.

"You know, I think we should just stay in here. What do you think? They have a good collection of DVDs and I promised you something good on your birthday."

Natasha smiles and nods. When they later lie on the bed once again, watching Robin Hood, she suddenly speaks up.

"You're really good with those arrows. Maybe you should use them more often."

"You think?"

"Yeah. I think they are your weapon."

* * *

**AN: That's it for now. I hope you like it!**


	7. Romania

Natalia feels so numb. Pictures flash through her head, fast and scary and horrible. It... it just all went horrible wrong. And now she can't even cry because Natalia doesn't cry. Natalia doesn't care, Natalia would never be upset because of causalities. She manages to call Ivan to tell him that the mission was a success, that the target is dead. Success. It feels so wrong to say it. Nothing went right on this mission. The little girl wasn't supposed to be there. She was supposed to be with her mother in Madrid. Why was this girl there?

Natasha feels the tears in her eyes. She starts running, just running, trying to get away. Somehow, she ends up on the beach. She stops running when she sees the water. For a moment, she is perfectly still, unmoving like a statue, and then she drops into the sand. It's cold, but Natasha doesn't feel it. She just sees the little girl, Drakov's daughter, the child she killed.

She's crying now, hard sobs go through her body, but she doesn't care. She killed a child. She hadn't wanted to, but she _killed a child_. She, Natalia Romanova, she who always thought she was a good person, killed an innocent child. She is a horrible human. She still has the little girls blood on her hands.

She just wants to die. No. She wants Clint. But Clint is god-knows-where, and she is alone and somehow just going into the water seems like a good idea.

* * *

Clint likes Romania. There is no bounty on his head here, what means he can just walk around without having to fear the police. So yeah, he likes Romania.

He used the last two month to build himself a new reputation. Hawkeye, like his stage name in circus, the guy who never misses and kills with arrows. He took Natasha advice to heart and uses them as often as possible now. And, so he hopes, nobody knows Clint Barton is Hawkeye. He makes a point in not being seen, but at least one person knows. Natasha, of course.

After a particularly generous payment, he decided to go on a short vacation, and now here he is, in Romania, on vacation, bored and lonely. He smirks. What did he expect? He needs the adrenaline, he knows that, and, well, being lonely is something he is used to. Still, he thinks while he walks over the beach, he somehow expected it to be different.

The waves crash into the beach and Clint closes his eyes. The steady noise calms him. _I definitively need to set up a safe house somewhere at a beach_, he thinks.

And then he hears it. A soft whimper, as if somebody is in great pain. It isn't far away and even thought Clint really shouldn't fall for such things, at heart he's a good guy and so he runs towards where the noise comes from.

He sees her now, a young woman, and she is crying. He doesn't know if she's hurt, can't see any injuries but that doesn't have to mean anything, but he knows she crying. Something horrible happened to her, he just knows it.

He kneels down beside her, not touching her, and tries his best to sound soothing.

"Hey, are you okay?" It's a stupid question because she obviously is not, but her head shoots up. And Clint nearly falls backwards when he realizes who she is.

"Natasha?" It's barely a whisper, because meeting her here just seems impossible and also he never thought she'd break down so completely.

"Clint?" She sounds so fragile, so young, that Clint's heart nearly breaks.

"Hey, I'm here. I'm here. Everything will be okay." He tells her, not knowing what else to say. He lays an arm around her shoulder and pulls her towards him, while she continues to sob.

"Nothing will be okay." She whispers.

"What happened?" Clint asks, mentally preparing himself to go after whoever did this to her.

* * *

Natasha can't believe it. He is here. He is really here. He has his arms around her and it's really good because she feels like she is going to fall apart. He tells her everything is okay, but Natasha knows it's not and it will never be.

Then he asks her what happened and she knows he is going to push her away as soon as she tells him, because Clint is such a good guy and this... but she tells him, because she could never lie to him, not now.

"I killed a girl." She expects him to stand up, to yell at her and run away, but he only stiffens slightly and brushes her hair, so she goes on.

"Her name was Alexandra. Alexandra Drakov. She was seven years old and a beautiful, happy girl. She loved to play football and lived in Madrid with her mother. And I killed her." She can't talk after this, just starts crying all over again. Clint holds her tight and says nothing and she is just incredible thankful for that.

* * *

Clint doesn't know what to say after she confesses what she's done. He is shocked, but then again he just holds her in his arms while she is having a complete meltdown, so probably she didn't want to. His heart breaks when she describes the little girl, and all he can do for now is holding her, because she is right: Nothing can make this alright again.

"I was there to kill her father. Arms dealer, nobody the world will miss. I messed up and got in fire fight with his guards. I took them down, and then, suddenly, I heard something from the stairs and I … I thought it was another guard so I shot. But it was just the little girl." She sobs again, shaking in his arms.

"I hit her in the chest. She looked up, so shocked, so innocent, and so young, and then she fell. I ran towards her, tried to stop the bleeding, but … the wound was deadly. I knew it." She takes a few moments to calm herself a bit.

"She died quietly. She didn't say one word. Nothing. I have her blood on my hands. I killed her, Clint!" New sobs erupt from her after she told her story.

Clint just holds her close. It wasn't her fault, but he knows she won't believe it. He would have done the same, but that doesn't help now.

After a while, he takes her face in his hands.

"Hey. This is just horrible, but it happened. You can't change it. All you can do is trying to make up for it. Try being a better person. You are a not a horrible person. Don't let anybody tell you differently. You do what you think is the right thing and that you break down because of what happened shows you care. You're not perfect, but you're also not a horrible person. Now come, lets wash this blood away."

* * *

Natasha really doesn't know how Clint knows that's exactly what she needed to hear. She doesn't want to hear it's not her fault because it is. She doesn't know how she deserves such a friend like Clint.

He leads her towards the sea and they wash away the blood together. The salty water stings in the graze in her arm, probably caused by a bullet, that she didn't even notice until now. Then he leads her to a hotel, and she briefly smiles because following him into a hotel somehow became a habit of hers, and than she remembers what she did and her smile fades.

He tells her to sit down on his bed and then takes care of the wound. It will be another scar, a scar that will forever remind her of her guilt.

Then they lie down together and somehow Clint seems to know she needs human contact, because he takes her in his arms and holds her during the night.

She wakes up multiple times because she sees it all over again, but he always comforts her and wipes away her tears.

When they wake up in the morning, they share a small breakfast. Uncle Ivan gave Natasha a few days of, so she stays with Clint. He shows her the city, and they go to the beach quite often, and he makes her laugh and when she wants to talk, he always listens. He never tells her it's enough, and he also never seems to be bored. He just listens and Natasha can't thank him enough for it.

Every night, she sleeps in his arms. It's not sexual, it's just that she needs him and that she needs to be sure he is there because she knows the nightmares will wake her up.

They buy burn phones. One for her, one for him. Clint insist that they need a possibility to reach each other when things go wrong. Natasha agrees. She really doesn't know what she would have done if he hadn't shown up. Maybe she would have given in and went into the water.

On her last morning here, she is the first one awake. She stays in his arms, because they feel like a warm cocoon that protects her from the world. He is still asleep, so she has time to think. She can't go on like she did before. Clint is right, the best way to honor little Alexandra Drakov is to become a better person. She has red in her ledger and she will have to wipe it out. She will never forget Alexandra Drakov, but she can't give up because of what happened. She has to make up for it. She has a new goal.

* * *

**AN: So, this is my take on the story with Drakov's daughter. I hope you liked it!**

**PS: Football is not American football here. It's the British version, soccer for the Americans who read this.**


	8. Barcelona

**AN: Sorry it took me so long! I was really busy with school =(**

* * *

It's been four month since Romania, and Natasha still can't sleep without nightmares. Somehow, she knows that this nightmares will never disappear. They keep her awake during the nights, and she has to hide the lack of sleep every single day, because Uncle Ivan would say nightmares are a weakness.

She does her best to become a better person, like she promised herself: She is efficient, quick and she makes sure there are not too much causalities. It's not perfect, but for now it helps.

She misses Clint, and she is a bit worried about him. Four month. That's the longest they've ever been apart since this fateful night in Bulgaria over a year ago. She knows he can take care of himself, but still... she would just like to see him again. To talk to him. Sometimes, when she feels like the Red Room is far away, she admits to herself that she is lonely. It's risky, because she is supposed to be Natalia, and Natalia is a Black Widow and never lonely.

When she feels safe enough, she pulls out the burn phone she and Clint bought in Romania. She doesn't call or text him, but just stares at it.

And then, one day, when she is holding the cell in her hand, it rings.

Natasha is so startled that she nearly drops it. After a short moment she looks at the phone. It's not a call but a text.

"Hey Nat, meet me here in two days." Under that, there is an address of a house in Barcelona.

It takes Natasha solid two minutes to process the meaning of this text. Then she lets out a shaky laugh because that's so _Clint_ to do something like this.

Her next move is to make sure nobody will follow her and board a plane to Spain.

* * *

Clint smiles when he writes the text to Natasha. He smiles a lot this days. Finally life seems to go well for him.

He goes to his safe house in Barcelona and waits for her. The house is nothing special, but he cleans it up a little and buys a few beers. Technically she is underage and not allowed to drink alcohol, but well, he isn't, either, and both of them have been through enough to be treated as adults.

And then, she comes. She wears a very pretty white dress that contrasts beautifully with her red hair and she looks a bit stressed, until her eyes find him standing outside the house. she gives him a big smile and he walks to her to envelope her in a hug. He can't stop smiling when he realizes she doesn't flinch or stiffen like the times before.

"Hi." He says.

"Hi." She answers.

* * *

He looks good, happy, Natasha notices. She is a bit confused because she doesn't know why he messaged her, but decides to go with it for the moment. She's missed him to much not to.

They go inside and he offers her a beer which she gladly takes. After a few sips, he begins to talk.

"I've got a new job. A permanent one."

"Nice." Natasha says because she doesn't know what else to say. What does permanent mean in their business? Clint isn't the guy she would peck as bodyguard and anything else doesn't make sense.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, I even get a cool governmental badge." Clint says smiling.

Natasha is shocked. Governmental?!

"It was kind of crazy how that happened, you know. I was in Afghanistan, in some small town and tried to take out this warlord. I'm just preparing to take the shot when a guy behind me speaks up. Really, I hadn't noticed him until then. He says that I should wait a moment because there are a few guards I hadn't noticed on patrol and in a few minutes they will be so far away that they won't notice me anymore." Clint shakes his head and laughs slightly.

"I did and than turned around to him. In the middle of Afghanistan in the town owned by a warlord the guy is wearing a black suit and looks as if he's just gotten out of some important conference. I ask him who he is and he says: "My name is Coulson. I work for SHIELD and want to offer you a job." Just like that." Clint takes another sip of his beer. Natasha looks at him. She knows what SHIELD is. SHIELD and the Red Room don't get along.

"I didn't believe him, of course, and wanted to run, but then this guy says that he knows who my targets are and that he believes I can do better than that. And that they will find me either the way. And then, well, I went with him. A few hours of interrogation, nothing to bad, and then they decided I should go into training. The "training" is a joke, obviously made for people who have never been in the field before. It took about 3 month, but I have the feeling they shortened it. Then they decided I'm trustworthy. I got send on two missions now, and this is the first time I've got nothing to do."

Natasha is quiet for a moment. Why is he telling her this? He knows she's a Russian assassin, and SHIELD is an American agency.

"That's good for you." She says.

"Yeah, I really like it there." Clint answers.

Natasha takes a deep breath and asks the question that's bothering her ever since she heard the name SHIELD.

"Will this change things?" She doesn't have to say what things. He looks her in the eyes and says sternly:

"No. Never. You are my best friend, Natasha, and no agency and no job will ever change that. They see me now, when I'm a known assassin, but you know me basically since I started."

Then he grabs her hand.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something, Nat. Please, please, promise me that this will never tear us apart. We may officially be on opposite sides, but please, don't ever let that stand between us. I don't want to lose you." There is an honesty in Clint's eyes, as if he is begging, and Natasha feels tears in her eyes.

"Never. Never, Clint." She promises, and he takes her in his arms. She feels safe there and smiles.

* * *

Clint can't stop smiling after she promised that they'd stay friends. It's the only thing that worried him when he took Coulsons offer. That he could lose Natasha. His biggest fear was that one day he would have to face her in a battle and that they'd be on different sides. Or that she would feel betrayed. That's the reason he took the risk of texting her. He had to be sure she knows.

But now that that's cleared, he can really enjoy his time with her. They spend the rest of the evening in the house, talking, watching movies and drinking beer.

They fall asleep on the couch, and Natasha's head lies on his shoulder. She doesn't wake up during the night, what he thinks is a really good sign. He might have been really nervous about telling her about his new job, but that doesn't mean he hasn't noticed the bags under her eyes. She probably still has nightmares.

The next morning, they make breakfast together. It is funny, because none of them can cook, and in the end they settle for croissants from a french baker a few streets away from the house.

The house is actually one of Clint's safe houses, one of the few SHIELD doesn't know about. It's only Natasha and him here, and he likes it that way.

They buy new burn phones, and by the evening, they are both sitting in planes back home again.

* * *

**AN: Not so sure about this chapter. I'm not sure if Clint and Natasha are too OOC here. But, finally, Clint is a SHIELD agent. I hope you liked it. Tell me what you think!**


	9. Minsk

The next time he sees her she's on a party. He is outside, on the roof of the building next to the one she is in. While nocking the arrow in his brand new high tech bow, he spots her in the crowd. The dress she wears is red, and she looks just stunning with the red hair curled over her shoulders. He gets lost in the sight of her for a moment.

"Hawkeye, do you have visual?" Coulson breaks through his thoughts. Clint takes a deep breath and refocuses. No need to pull Coulsons attention to the assassin of the enemy who is dancing with the mark right now.

"Yes, Sir." Coulson is one of the few guys that Clint actually calls "Sir" without being ironic. Screw that, Coulson is the only guy Clint respects enough to call him "Sir" and meaning it.

"Wait a moment, intelligence is giving me something." His handler says. Clint rolls his eyes. Intelligence always found something last minute. He looks at Natasha again and makes a spur of the moment decision.

"Actually, Coulson, I've thought of putting in a short leave. Can I take one or two days off?" He asks.

"You're going to take your vacation whether I approve or not, so the question is pretty much a rhetorical one. But no, I don't mind. Just finish this here and then you can go."

"Sweet! You should take a vacation, too, Coulson, you look a little pale." Clint jokes. Coulson never takes vacation. Never. Rumor is he never even took one sick day.

"Focus, Barton. Intelligence gave me the okay. Take the shot."

* * *

Natalia dances. She usually likes dancing, it is a way she can use her body without it being a weapon. But right now, she dances with her mark to seduce him. It's ridiculously easy, but that's mostly how it works. He and everybody in this room just sees a beautiful, young, naïve women who wants to have fun.

In ten minutes, she will take him with her and kill him in the dark alley, where no witnesses will see her with a gun. That would kind of destroy the picture they have of her.

He swirls her around, so that he is with his back to the window and she can take a look outside. He smiles at her, a smile that makes her want to break his neck right here, because she knows what he has done. He is a big boss in child trafficking, building bordells where little girls have to work. This guys are the worst of all, Natasha thinks.

And then, suddenly, he breaks down. Natasha has seen the arrow a few moments before it hit it's target and if she wouldn't have been around about thirty witnesses, she would have smiled. Even though Clint's officially a real enemy now, they're obviously still send after the same targets. For the guys around her, she puts up a show, screaming from the top of her lungs and shaking violently.

The police soon comes, escort her outside and question her before sending her a look pity and telling her everything will be okay. She does her best to bit back a smile. They have no idea who she is.

It's actually cold out here and she involuntarily shivers. Not that any of them would notice. She's too good at controlling how she looks like. Suddenly, somebody puts a jacket around her shoulders.

Natasha looks up and right into Clint's eyes. He wears a police jacket and looks as if he belongs here.

"Come with me, Ma'am" He says with a hidden smile no one but her would see.

"Oh, thank you, I'm so scared!" Natasha exclaims, her eyes full of the laughter she can not let out loudly.

They barely make it out of sight of the police officers before they break out in loud laughter.

Trying to catch her breath and still laughing, Clint asks:

"Did you see the faces of those cops?" Natasha just laughs harder.

* * *

After they finally are able to stop laughing, Clint hugs her. She hugs him back, and then she leads him to her safe house here.

They sit down together, Natasha fetches a few beers and after a moment, she asks:

"So, you couldn't let him for me?"

"Nope, not with Coulson in my ear telling me he wants this done."

"Your handler?"

"Yep. They seem to think I need adult supervision." He says dramatically rolling his eyes.

"Sometimes I think that too!" Natasha says. Clint fakes a hurt look and exclaimes:

"Why?"

"Bratislava. Do I need to say anything else?" Clint smiles and says:

"That may have gotten a bit out of hand."

"A bit?"

"We got out, didn't we?"

* * *

Somehow, the conversation turns serious. Natasha learns that Clint is actually on leave, so he has time, and she can't hide the smile on that news. The safe house they are in is not one of the Red Room, actually the Red Room has no idea it exists.

She set it up years ago, that time simply forgot to tell the Red Room. Now she's very glad she did. They are undisturbed here, and she tells him that. And then she tells him about the Red Room. She does not plan it, it just spills out of her mouth. She tells him that the Red Room raised her, that Uncle Ivan taught her everything she knows. She bitches a bit about Yelena Belova, because really, that woman annoys the hell out of her. Yelena is still the second, behind her, and the blonde woman can't stand that thought. Clint listens, laughs along with her jokes and generally is being the attentive young man she knows.

"How long do you have?" Clint finally asks her.

"How long do you have?" Natasha replies with a challenging look.

"Two days."

"I can make me free for the same time." She smiles.

* * *

They do nothing special. They sleep in (okay, sleeping in means sleeping until 8 am for Natasha, but Clint takes what he gets), they make breakfast together, they talk, they laugh, they watch movies, and Natasha teaches him a few Russian phrases. They have fun.

In the nights, they sleep in the same bed, embracing each other. They don't even question it anymore. It's just natural. Natasha sleeps without a single nightmare in the first night, but in the second Clint has to wake her up. There is a tense second where she grabs the knife she always hides under her pillow before she remembers where she is and who Clint is. He just looks into her eyes and than cracks a smile before saying:

"That's mine."

Turns out he has the same habit. They smile and go back to sleep soon.

After two days, they say their goodbyes and leave the city.

* * *

**AN: I hope you liked it! Remember to tell me what you think!**


	10. Russia

_I need you._

That's all it needs to have Clint on the edge. A short text from Natasha, only saying "I need you" and a couple of coordinates, and Clint's a bundle of nerves. Tensely, he asks Coulson for leave, and gets it, and then he boards the first plane to Russia.

_I need you._ Three simple words, and Clint is shaken through the bones. Natasha doesn't _ever_ admit that maybe she _needs_ someone.

He stares at his phone during the whole flight, not sure what to make out of this, worried and confused and afraid of what must have happened for her to write those words. It takes him 21 hours from receiving the message to reach the house that is on the coordinates she sent him, and that are 21 hours to long.

When he finally knocks at her door, he doesn't know what to expect. What he certainly didn't expect is to find her with tears in her arms, physically unharmed as far as he sees, but with anger and sadness and betrayal in her eyes, and he definitively does not expect her to throw herself into his arms and start crying on his shoulder.

Helplessly, he puts his arms around her and ushers her inside, closing the door behind him. Then he just stand there, holding her and not knowing what to say.

He doesn't know how long she cries, time seems to stretch and he doesn't care, to be true. He just wants to find this son of a bitch who made her cry like this, who made his Tasha cry like this, and put an arrow through his heart.

Finally, she calms down a bit and starts speaking.

"It's all a lie. Everything. It's all a lie, nothing of it is true." She starts sobbing again.

"What is a lie?" He asks carefully.

"Everything. Everything I ever believed in. What they told me about my parents... Everything I ever believed in is a lie, Clint." She wipes away a few tears.

"I... I was searching a file for an op, when I found my own file. The real one. The fire, Clint, the fire that killed my parents... they started it. They killed my parents, they lit up my home and destroyed everything. They didn't took me in because of mercy, they killed my parents because they wanted me! They killed my parents, my older sister... they killed them all!"

Clint just holds her tighter. There is nothing he can do or say. He kind of always knew that the Red Room weren't exactly the good guys, nobody who takes little girls and teaches them how to be an assassin is, but that he didn't expect.

"And you know what? When they lied so horribly about this, how can I believe that anything they told me is true? How many innocents have I killed, Clint? How many of the people who I murdered weren't the bad guys? How many?"

"I don't know, Natasha. But there is two things I know: First of all, this isn't your fault. You were the weapon, they pulled the trigger. And second, considering how often we met on jobs, I kind of think that the most guys you took out were ones the world _really_ doesn't misses."

Natasha closes her eyes and curls up deeper in his arms.

* * *

Later, they sit on a small couch. On the desk before them lies the file. It's a thick file, filled with many pages that describe Natasha's operations, her experiences, psychological examinations and much more.

Natasha has seen it all, has read every single page while waiting for Clint to show up. She knows who lit up her home, knows the names of every single one of them, she knows about the treatments they gave her, knows that changed something with her body to make her heal faster, to make her feel less pain.

She knows all of that, but she still finds it hard to believe. On the other hand, many things that bothered her make sense now. Why she never really needed to go to a hospital, for example. Why they never allowed her to return to her home town.

Tears run down her cheeks again, but she wipes them away quickly and instead focuses on Clint. Clint sits on the couch, reading the file silently and with real concentration. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. Natasha is just incredibly thankful that he is here, that she doesn't have to be alone right now.

* * *

Clint's head spins from all the things he's read. Physical Enhancements, her first kill, a detailed report about the night when Natasha's parents and sister were murdered. It's … just so much. There are things about her that bring tears into his eyes, and other things that makes him want to grab his bow and just kill those guys who did that to her.

At the same time he realizes just how much she has to trust him to let him read her file. There is so much information about her in there, so many things he could use against her. Not that he would ever do that, but it still gives him a little warm feeling that she is okay with him reading it.

He sees the name on each paper. _Natalia Romanova._ Again, he is surprised – positively – by the level of trust she obviously has for him. After what seems like an eternity he looks up to meet her. He sees so much in there, sadness, insecurity, anger. There is so much in there, and Clint can't say anything to that. He just holds his arms open and takes her into a tight hug.

Later, when they drink a wodka together (Natasha insisted), he asks her what she is going to do now.

"I am going to hunt them down, then I am going to kill the trainers and destroy the whole organization. They shall know that there is no way they get away with that. I will destroy them."

Clint takes a sip of his drink and asks.:

"Need help?"

Natasha smiles, but shakes her head.

"Thanks for the offer, but no. I have to do this on my own. Also, you have a job. Don't just destroy your life because of me."

"You do know that you are more important to me than that job, do you? I'd have no problems to quit."

"Still, no. But I appreciate the offer." She smiles.

"You know how to reach me."

* * *

**AN: I'm back!**

***hides behind chair***

**Okay, I'm really sorry this took me so long. I hope to be quicker next time =)**


	11. Riga

"This god damn Black Widow! She just went crazy. Started killing everybody in her way! She even kills people from her own side now!"

Clint hears the people talk. He worries. Of course he knows that Natasha hasn't gone crazy, he knows that she follows a plan. He knows that she takes out everybody who is related to the Red Room. What he worries about is how much that seems to bother SHIELD. The council is nervous, and when the council gets nervous, people usually end up dead. Clint worries that it probably won't be long until somebody is told to kill her.

Because of that, he keeps his eyes and ears open. He listens to the gossip that never interested him before, just so he knows if there is maybe someone who got the order to take her out. Nothing.

Instead, he gets to know a nice young woman, Bobbi. He meets her one day in a cafe. Bobbi studies biology and she is really nice and really clever. Clint likes her. She lives a normal life. A life that maybe could have been his, if his father and than his brother and then the circus hadn't screwed with him to hell and back.

He goes out on a date with her. He takes leave and tells Coulson that he really doesn't want to be interrupted. They go to the cinema and than they have dinner. It's nice, but it's... not right. It feels a bit wrong, and Clint just knows that this with her isn't what he wants. He thinks of ways to tell her that without being rude when she says:

"Clint. I really like you, really, but... I don't think we would work. I think we can make great friends, but I don't want to be together with you. Don't misunderstand me: You are really nice and all, but there is just..." she searches for words.

"No spark." He says. She nods. He brings her home, says goodbye and forgets her.

* * *

Natasha sits in a little cafe in Canberra. It's quiet and she pretends to read a book, but in fact waits on somebody. The table she sits at is usually reserved for a high member of the Red Room. She waits for him to show up. Her hair is black today, and she wears glasses, and she applied make up so she nearly didn't recognize herself in the mirror before she left her safe house.

It takes only a few moments until a male voice with good disguised Russian accent asks her what she does on his table. She plays the confused tourist and it takes only a few minutes until he follows her to an empty side street. She planned this, she knows that there is no camera to see what happens now. His throat is slit before he even realizes that something might be wrong. She walks away with a smirk.

* * *

Clint sits on the top floor of an empty office building in Riga, bow and arrow ready. He is here to take out one of the top men of the Red Room project. The man, a middle old guy in Armani dances on a party in a garden, perfectly in Clint's sights. He smiles. Way to easy, this one. He takes the shot, and then sits there and watches the panic unfold. Nobody even thinks of looking here for him. It's been a few month since he's seen Natasha, but thanks to all the rumors he still knows she's out there, taking down the people who ruined her life. She isn't as stupid as most of the other assassins and spies out there, she will know who killed the man. He imagines the little smile on her face when she hears about it.

"Nice shot." Clint's hand is at his gun before he recognizes the voice. Slowly, he turns around.

"Didn't see you at the party." He says. There she stands, wearing a nice black dress. Her hair is blond.

"I just arrived when he fell to the floor. Not really clever of you to stay here." She answers with a smile.

"Didn't expect anyone to find me here." He shoots back. Natasha just smiles.

"I know your style, Clint."

* * *

When Natasha saw the arrow sticking out of the throat of her mark, she looked around. It took her only a few moments to be sure where he was, and then she just went there. It's kind of nice to know that she can sneak up on him.

They go to his safe house. He says that he has about three hours before anyone will ask for him, so she stays there with him. She takes her blond wig of, and sees the smile on Clint's face when her long red hair falls down her shoulders.

"You have to be careful, Tasha. In the last month I've heard so many rumors about you. You make the council nervous. That's not good." He tells her.

"Why not? I don't attack them, and I don't really care what they think of me."

"Because if the council gets nervous there is a good chance a SHIELD agent will get the order to kill you soon. I know that you can take care of yourself, but please, just promise you'll be careful, okay?" He really is worried about her. It nice to know that somebody cares enough to worry, but she just says:

"Like you said, I can take care of myself. Besides, why should they get nervous? I more or less do their work!"

"Good question. I never trusted the council." He says and with that, they change the topic.

She just is in the kitchen to fetch two beers when she hears the door open. Then there is a voice she doesn't know.

"Good job, Barton."

* * *

Clint is absolutely shocked. What the hell is Coulson doing here? The last thing he heard was that the man was somewhere in Alaska!

"Good job, Barton." He prays to god or whoever that Natasha hears it and stays in the kitchen.

"Thanks. Did you beam here? Because I thought you were in Alaska." He says and hopes not to sound nervous.

"No. I was just in the city and thought I'd debrief you now instead of later."

* * *

Natasha stands in the kitchen and listens to what the other man, Coulson, obviously Clint's handler, and Clint discuss. She's not sure if she should run for the hills or stay here. She heard the nervous shaking in Clint's voice, even though she's quite sure Coulson didn't. If she gets caught here, what isn't that likely, she and Clint both are in trouble. But if she runs, it's more or less sure she is seen by Coulson and Clint is in deep shit. She thinks feverishly while she keeps an ear on the debriefing in the next room.

"Your mark is one of those people we think the Black Widow might attack, too. Did you see anyone who could be the Widow?" Coulson suddenly asks. Natasha closes her eyes.

"No, sir. I was the only assassin there." Clint answers.

"Good. I have to go. Director Fury expects you back by tomorrow." There is a bit noise, and then she hears the front door open and close. Shaking, she releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Then she stands up and goes back to Clint. They look each other in the eyes and after a moment, they begin to laugh.

* * *

**AN: Yes, I do know that in the comics Bobbi is Clint's wife. I told you in the beginning that I won't do this like it is in comics. This is a story about Natasha Clint, so deal with it. I hope you still liked it!**


	12. Austria 2nd

**AN: I'm so so sorry for the long wait!**

**And the chapter you all waited for...**

* * *

Clint stares at the file in shock.

He sits in his office (an office! He has an office!) and Coulson has just dropped by to give him the file of his next target. His handler has told him to find and kill her. To find and kill Natasha.

The file is only a few pages long. They have a bad picture and nearly no information. A list of dead guys that people say are her doing, and the fact that she is Russian and a Red Room trainee. That was it. They don't even have her name. Just "The Black Widow".

Clint isn't able to move for quite some time, he just stares at the file. He'd always known that one day someone would be send after her. He just... he just never thought about what he would do when it happened.

In the back of his mind he notices that Coulson is gone and that the door is closed. Good. That means that nobody noticed his little fallout. Clint take a deep breath._ One step after the other, _he thinks. First, take the mission. If he doesn't, someone else will be send after her. And that somebody will make the kill without a second thought. No, he has to tell Coulson that he'd do it. Next, he has to drop of SHIELD radar for a while. Then, he has to contact Natasha and meet up with her. They have to discuss what they will do now. And all that while Coulson and probably the whole counsil are waiting for him to tell them that he did it. That he killed her.

He shakes his head. When did his life become so complicated?

* * *

Natasha is in the middle of seducing a higher up of the Red Room when her phone rings. For a moment, she freezes, then she excuses herself to look why the hell Clint is messaging her. The text however sends chills through her bones.

"We need to meet. ASAP. Big, big trouble. Austria."

Austria. That little house on top of the mountain where they had met months ago. She took a deep breath, then she smiled at her target.

"I'm so sorry..." And with that she cut his throat.

While she leaves the scene to find the next available plane to Austria, she wonders why he hasn't send an address like before. It's not that she won't find the safe house, it's more the fact that they had both agreed that the winter there had been horrible. So why not choose a safehouse somewhere warm? Something is really wrong, she just knows it.

* * *

Clint is pacing through the room. He's been there for four hours now. He knows that it will take Natasha a bit time to get here, after all he chose this safe house because it's difficult to find and far away from the usual ways of people. It's not easy to reach. Perfect if you don't want your extremely shady governmental agency boss to find out where you are.

When he hears a knock on the door, he jumps slightly. Then he looks on the little display that shows him what the camera he hid on the door records. Natasha smiles directly at him. Of course she found the camera.

He opens the door and pulls her into a quick hug. She doesn't stiffen, what brings a little smile on his face. Then he closes the door and sits down with her.

"Not that I don't like seeing you again, I really do, but your message sounded urgent. What's the matter?" Natasha asks while she warms her hands at the fire.

"I told you that you made the council nervous. Yesterday... yesterday Coulson, my handler, a kill order on you." Natasha took in a sharp breath. She looked at him sternly.

"What are you going to do?" She asked him.

"That's what I wanted to talk about with you. Since following that order obviously is out of discussion, I kind of wanted to ask you what you think of it."

* * *

When Clint said that he had been sent to kill her, Natasha's world stops turning for a moment. Then she looks at him and realizes that there is no reason to be afraid, that this is Clint. Clint. The assassin that calls her to tell her that he has been ordered to kill her. She smiles a bit and listens to him assure her that he does not intend to follow the order.

"I don't know... telling them that you can't find me won't work, will it?"

"Nope. Coulson will tell me to just keep searching."

Natasha stands up. She starts pacing through the room. Of course Clint can buy her time with telling his boss that he hasn't found her yet, but that won't be forever. They could run together, the two of them against the rest of the world, but she wouldn't ever ask that from him. Not when he has finally found a place where he seems to feel at least a bit as if he belongs there. What to do?

"We could fake your death, but..." Clint suggests, but Natasha interrupts him.

"I still have a few things to do, a few Red Room operatives to kill. I will end up on their radar again and then you have a problem. That's no way." She takes a deep breath when she has an idea.

"What... what if I defect? Offer to work for them?" She asks.

Clint looks at her thoughtfully. "It's risky. There are quite a few in the council who want to see you dead. Fury would probably be on your side, but I'm not sure... it's really risky."

"It's our best chance, I think. Everything else would only be temporary. If I defect, we could solve this issue permanently." She looks him directly into the eyes.

"We need Coulson, then. I'm only an agent, if I show up with you they will say that I got tangled up in you net and kill you anyway. If we do this, we need Coulson to back us up."

"Call him, then." She says.

* * *

It feels weird to sit here in a safe house that is his, not SHIELDs, waiting for Coulson to arrive. Clint remembers the short conversation they had.

"_Hey Coulson."_

"_Barton. Have you found her yet?"_

"_Ah... I need your help. Could you please come here?"_

"_Why are you calling from Austria when your tracker says you're in Bogota?" _

"_Come here and I'll explain it."_

"_That better be a good explanation, Barton."_

"_You bet, sir."_

That had been five hours ago. He and Natasha had used the time to discuss how much they would tell Coulson and to cook ridiculous amounts of coffee. Nat would have preferred wodka, and if Clint is honest, so would he, but they need to be sober when Coulson comes.

Finally, there is a knock on the door. Both he and Natasha reflexively reach for their weapons, but a short look on the camera feed tells him it is an annoyed looking Coulson. And that Coulson is alone. Clint looks at Natasha who turns on the signal jammer (they don't want Coulson to call anyone before this is sorted out) and opens the door.

"Hey boss." He greets nervously.

"Barton. What is so important that I need to come here?" Coulson asks while he looks around in the room. He finds Natasha sitting on the couch and reaches for his weapon.

"Ah... put that down, boss. You won't need it. That is my old friend Natasha. Natasha, my boss Coulson." Coulson stands absolutely still when Natasha gets up and extends her hand.

"Natasha Romanova." She introduces herself. Coulson closes his eyes for a moment. He takes deep breath and shakes the hand.

"Phil Coulson. Barton, will you explain this to me please?" Coulson looks positively furious, as furious as Coulson gets, at least, so Clint hurries to speak.

"You see, Natasha here wants to defect. We thought you could maybe help with convincing the council that she does not want to kill them all?" Clint asked, putting on his most charming smile.

Coulson just sits down and looks at Natasha for a moment. Then he shakes his head ever so slightly and asks:

"And you couldn't have mentioned that you _know_ the Black Widow _before_ we send you on this mission?" He asks Clint.

"Well, you would have sent another. And asked me a bunch of questions I don't want to answer. So, no, not really."

Coulson thinks for a moment, then he looks at Natasha. His eyes trace her face, stay at her eyes and finally, after what feels like an eternity, Coulson sighs.

"Why do you want to defect, Miss Romanova?" Natasha looks him in the eyes, not afraid, and Clint can't help but be incredibly proud of her.

"I want to defect because the Red Room killed my family. I want revenge, Mr. Coulson, and I can hardly get it when I'm dead. If I don't defect, your council won't rest until I'm six feet under."

Coulson scans her face for emotions, and whatever he finds seems to please him.

"Well, at least you don't try to tell me your suddenly enamored with America. You will have to go through quite a few unhappy interrogations and it won't be easy, but I'll help you."

* * *

**AN: I hope you liked it!**


End file.
